


The River and the Rose

by GrumpyJenn



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: s01e01 Rose, Episode: s07e05 The Angels Take Manhattan, Friendship, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 11:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyJenn/pseuds/GrumpyJenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Mels Zucker met Rose Tyler when they were children? And what if the Nestene planned to use something other than the London Eye as a transmitter?</p><p>From the anonymous prompt "River meets Rose"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The River and the Rose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TygerTyger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TygerTyger/gifts), [SnubNosedSilhouette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnubNosedSilhouette/gifts), [Amie33](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amie33/gifts), [Kehwie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kehwie/gifts).



It wasn’t the first time young Mels Zucker had run away from the foster home in Leadworth. And it wouldn’t be the last.

She got as far as London this time, in the suburbs anyway, a place called the Powell Estates, and she saw other kids in a playground. Mels knew they were older than she was when viewed one way - the way she looked, for instance - but they were much younger when viewed the other way, the real way, the way that she... she couldn’t remember. But she hadn’t had much chance to be a _child_ , had she, with the foster homes, and she missed Amelia, and she _wanted_ to play, and so she went through the gate and bullied and cajoled her way into a game of Tag.

When she knocked over a small blonde girl called Rose, the girl cried and an older boy with beautiful dark eyes came and shouted at Mels. “You leave Rose alone, Mels! Go on, get out of here!”

Mels went. Not far; she hadn’t anywhere to go, but she went out through the gate and sat on a sun-warmed bench, tired from her travels, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on them. She watched the children through the gate and sighed. She never _meant_ to be hurtful to other children; it just sort of happened. When Amelia was there it wasn’t so bad, because it was Mels and Amelia against the world. The next time she ran away - she had no doubt that she would be found and brought back - the next time, she would bring Amelia with her. Maybe even Rory, the skinny little git.

Eventually, Mels fell asleep sitting there on the bench, and when she woke, it was because someone had touched her. She woke abruptly, moving almost instantly into a defensive crouch, and her gaze darted between the people standing there. “It’s all right, love,” said a blowsy-looking blonde woman. “Have you lost your way?” Her expression was kind, and Mels had missed _kind_.

“Um--”

“-- _I_ think she’s trouble,” said the boy with the pretty eyes. The eyes looked hard and unforgiving at the moment, and Mels shrank into herself. _Dark, unforgiving eyes... I can’t remember, and_... but he was still talking, “And she knocked Rose over.”

“Oh, leave _off_ , Mickey,” said the blonde girl, Rose. “I think it was an accident. Come on,” she coaxed, turning her attention to Mels. “Come home with me and Mum, just for tea?” Mels looked up at the lady, who nodded and smiled encouragingly.

“Come on, love, we’ll fix you up, get some tea in you, find your parents, all right? Oh now...” the lady trailed off as Mels’ eyes filled with tears. “Don’t worry, poppet, we’ll get you sorted.” She helped Mels to her feet and brushed her off briskly. Bemused, Mels allowed this, and the lady - Rose’s Mum - took her hand and led her and Rose to a block of flats, chattering kindly at Mels. The boy called Mickey went to a different building, and Mels was glad to see him go. Even if he did have pretty eyes.

“Um, ‘m sorry I knocked you down,” Mels muttered to Rose as they sat at the kitchen table, but Rose waved her off.

“You didn’t mean it, Mels,” she said, and smiled. Mels thought she had a very nice smile, and noticed that her eyes, though as dark as Mels’ own, didn’t look hard and angry like the boy’s - and those of someone she couldn’t remember clearly - had. “It’s a funny name, Mels. Is it short for something? And why did you come here?”

“Melody Zucker. I...” Mels said, and stopped. How could she explain it? How could she explain that she’d _had_ to get away from Leadworth and the foster home, even if only for a day? Just to prove she could, she could run and she could hide from the... the... she shook her head.

“Right, well, love,” said Rose’s mum. “Have some tea and we’ll sort the rest later.” She bustled about, making a tea of custard and little cakes and chips, and Mels realised how very hungry she really was. “Now, pets, I’ll pop off to a ring up a friend for a bit; you sit and have your tea. You can turn on the telly if you’re done before I’m off the phone.” And she was gone into another room of the flat.

Rose grinned at Mels and dug into her chips. “Mum’s okay,” she said. “She’ll get you sorted. Eat.” And for awhile all that could be heard was the sounds of chewing and approving little hums from Rose, who was clearly a fan of her mother’s chips.

Then Mels heard the voice from the other room, saying, “Dunno, love, but I think she’s been hurt or somethin’.” Mels looked sharply at Rose, but the blonde girl was clearly oblivious to the sound, and Mels had been aware for some time that her hearing and vision and strength were stronger than other people’s. So she kept eating, but listened hard to the words she heard - obviously Rose’s Mum was talking to someone in authority.

Mels hated authority; in her experience they were always ready to believe the worst of her.

But Rose’s Mum was still talking, and she seemed concerned rather than angry, and Mels _so_ wanted someone to care what happened to her. Amelia cared, but she was a child, and Mels wanted an adult to care, someone to... right, well. “I know it,” she heard Rose’s Mum say from the other room. “But Harry, she’s a _kid_ , and she’s here in my flat, and I don’t want her to--” A sigh. “Right. Yeah. Charing Cross at ten o’ clock. She’ll be there.”

Mels wasn’t hungry anymore. Charing Cross station would have a train to Gloucester, the nearest city to Leadworth. She was going back. Back to... to... well, Amelia would be there anyway, and that was good. She’d only had to get away for a bit. She was sure of it; all she’d needed was a little holiday from the... the foster home, yes, that was it. Of course. Just a little holiday.

So Mels was able to smile at Rose’s Mum - “Call me Jackie,” she said when she came into the kitchen. She was able to smile and thank the woman nicely for the tea, and to cast her eyes down and look embarrassed when the woman asked if she was all right.

“I’m okay,” she said in a voice much softer than she usually used. “I just... I needed to get away for a bit, my... foster mother is--”

“--hard on you, love?” interrupted Jackie, and Mels gave a half smile and a half shrug.

“She’s okay,” Mels said, knowing her tone belied her words, but unable to help herself. “She’s just not... not _Mum_ , you know?” She sighed. “Sometimes I just want to get away.”

“Well,” said Jackie in a brisk sort of tone, even though her eyes were suspiciously bright, “Next time you ring someone - us if you like - instead of just getting on a random train, yeah?” She sighed too, and added, “Look. I just talked to my mate, he’s a child welfare bloke. He said your foster mum is half-mad with worry for you, so...”

“I have to go back.” Mels nodded. She knew.

“You have to go back. But not until tomorrow.” Jackie smiled at her. “Harry - my friend - put me on to your foster mum - Mrs. Kovar? - and she agreed you can stay here for the night; we’ll take you to the train in the morning to meet her. That suit you?”

“Yeah, okay.” Mels tried to sound reasonable, because she didn’t want to be surly with Jackie. She knew that if she spun a story of abuse or worse, that this woman would believe her. But she’d end up being punished - by Mrs. Kovar, how had she forgotten the name? - and her new friend Rose could be hurt by it, and they’d probably never let her see Amelia again. She didn’t have so many friends she could afford to lose them, not even Rory, who she knew _was_ her friend even though he was a bit of a pillock.

So Mels and Rose went out to play some more after tea, and Mels was very careful not to hurt the other children, even by accident. Rose introduced her as ‘the daughter of me Mum’s friend from up the country,’ and from then on they all got on swimmingly. Even that Mickey bloke waved cheerfully good-bye to her in a friendly fashion as she and Rose went back up to the Tylers’ second-floor flat.

And then after they had their dinner, Mels and Rose were allowed to sit up late watching bad films on the telly, eating crisps and chocolate. Mels had never had such a day in her recollection - so _normal_ a day - and she spent most of the evening trying not to burst into tears at how _lovely_ it all was. Jackie went to bed, and Rose and Mels sat up quite late, giggling and telling secrets... well, _Rose_ told secrets; Mels had to insist she hadn’t any to tell.

 _Her_ secrets - even the ones she could remember - would likely curl Rose’s hair.

When they were awakened in the morning, they had another meal and more chatter that was so normal as to be heartbreaking for Mels. She knew she would never have anything like it again, not with Mrs Kovar and her... her... she couldn’t remember who. And she got quieter and quieter as the morning went on, to the point that she was nearly silent on the bus to Charing Cross. She watched Jackie watch her with kind eyes, listened to Rose prattling, and saved it all up to carry her through until the next time she could get away.

Mrs Kovar put on a good show of being the concerned foster mother - a little annoyed, very worried - but Mels knew it was all an act. Once they were alone Mrs Kovar would punish her for running away, with the lightning and the... with something. Mels could handle it. Mels was tough. And Mels would still have Amelia and even Rory; Mrs Kovar was not stupid and she would know that Amelia’s parents and Rory’s dad would fuss if she, Mels, just went missing. Even if the adults didn’t like her, thought she was a bad influence on their kids, they’d worry if she disappeared. So Mels hugged Rose tight, and whispered a _thank you_ into Jackie’s ear, and went away with the woman who was technically her foster mother.

Mels Zucker never saw Rose or her mother again.

But River Song did.

 

\--/--

 

“River!” the Doctor exclaimed as he leapt up the stairs to the console area and swung her around for a hug. “What are you doing here? Can you stay? And...” He eyed her narrowly, clearly realising that she had slapped at the console to shut the screen off as he approached. “And what are you up to this time, Professor Song?”

“I...” River really didn’t want to tell him. It wouldn’t affect his actions at this late date but... well, she didn’t want to hurt him either. And talking about Rose Tyler would almost certainly hurt him.

“Spoilers,” they said in unison, and sighed even as they smiled at each other.

“I can stay for a bit, Sweetie,” she said, a clear invitation in her voice, and his smile grew into a proper grin.

“Well now, my bad girl...” he began, and the rest of his speech was swallowed as River tackled him with a fierce kiss.

Several hours later, River lay nude, tangled in TARDIS-blue sheets with her eyes shut, revelling in the cosy feeling of the Doctor’s long fingers skimming through her curls. She wished she could tell him what she was doing. It wasn’t technically a spoiler, not now. But any mention of Rose Tyler - or Donna Noble, or River’s own parents - tended to make him both sad and angry. She smiled without opening her eyes, and twined her fingers into his, pulling them gently from her hair. She pressed her lips to them, and sighed lightly.

“What is it, my River Song?” His voice was gentle.

“You know I can’t say, my love. Kiss me for luck.” He complied enthusiastically, and then they made their way back to the console room. “Put me down in Cardiff? Late 20th century?”

“River.” He sounded concerned, as though he was wondering what sort of trouble she might get herself into. She chuckled inwardly. He was so brilliant, an absolute genius, and he _knew_ she lied as often as she needed to. But it would never occur to him that Wales in the 20th wasn’t where she was headed.

“Don’t worry, Sweetie. I’ll be careful.” She kissed him, lightly this time, and patted the console behind him as she did so, feeling a warm sort of positivity from the TARDIS in the back of her mind. Sexy knew what River was doing; everything would be all right.

River stepped out into bright sunlight, and used the simple expedient of glancing at the paper at the newsstand to check the date. Fifth July, 1999. Good enough. That wasn’t her purpose here anyway; Cardiff was just a petrol station for her little wristband. She’d have to be careful to avoid Torchwood Three, but as Jack Harkness was not yet in charge - not for another six months or so - she wasn’t too concerned about that. Nothing in particular had happened in Cardiff on this day, or indeed in Wales, although there had been an actual tornado in England, and political unrest in the Middle East, as always. This one had had the American president imposing sanctions. And... hmm... right, it was a holiday on the Isle of Man, but that was far enough away from Cardiff not to interfere, and the anniversary of what the Longshoremen called Bloody Thursday. Right then, stay away from the warehouse district on the docks, avoid Torchwood, and she would be fine.

Sometimes being an archaeologist was like having a calendar of strange events in one’s head.

In this time the Plass was already called that, but the TARDIS had not yet been there, so there was no invisible lift at the fountain. River decided she’d stroll as though sightseeing, and while standing where the invisible lift would be several years from now, she’d ‘check her watch’ to fill up and activate the vortex manipulator, and then she’d be on her way. She nodded to herself. It was a good plan.

And it worked, although there was a certain amount of running involved. River Song didn’t want to hurt Jack Harkness; they’d never met, but he’d be important later. So she ran from him when he came to investigate who was siphoning power from the Rift, and she ducked into an alleyway and used the VM unit while running.

She was lucky she got to the right time and place; she was even luckier she didn’t break an ankle or worse as she materialised a few metres above the catwalk. If you could call it luck that a pile of tarps against the rain had been stacked up there. She set to work with a pair of wire cutters and a standard screwdriver, even as her mind wandered; with this level of tech, River Song could wreck it and show no trace to a casual scan with one hand tied behind her back.

The Karl G. Jansky Very Large Array was even more imposing than it was in the old films she’d seen. Films about early space exploration, or killer robots from the future. Films that were rather depressingly like real life for some. But this place - it was _amazing_ , to use a pet word of her husband’s. All transmitters and receivers, looking like a veritable forest of the things, as though they had somehow sprouted there of their own accord. And she had to sabotage them herself, she thought as she clipped a key wire, or the Nestene Consciousness would use the VLA as their transmitter, instead of the London Eye as they were meant to.

If that happened, if the Consciousness used the VLA, the Doctor would never meet Rose Tyler.

There were other things River would have to do after she finished her sabotage of the Array, other stops to make. In the meantime, thank goodness she only had to cut a few wires here and there, rather than taking out the whole Array. That could be messy, and while she didn’t mind messy as a rule, she’d rather not destroy a timeline in the process. Not those times, not one line.

So she snipped through the final wire. There; that would put the Array out of commission until after Christmas 2005, right into the New Year, but not do enough damage that the humans who maintained it couldn’t get it back into working order. She sighed and straightened. It had been a long night here in the Array, manipulating the Vortex so she wouldn’t have to walk down and then up again to the dozen or so transmitters she’d had to sabotage. Her hair was a mess, her ankle ached where she had landed wrong, and all she wanted was a hot bath and some sleep.

But where? And more importantly, _when_? She couldn’t go to England in 2005 yet; the Ninth Doctor would spot her. But she absolutely refused to stay _here_ in 2005; she’d stick out like a sore thumb and be caught as soon as they noticed the sabotage. She could hide a number of things with perception filters and bio-dampeners, but why invite trouble by being the only stranger in town when they found this mess? So she had to go. Back to 1999 then, but London this time instead of Cardiff. That should be safe enough, and she was familiar with the city in that time.

She overshot a bit.

 _Oh bless,_ she thought, _is the Universe trying to tell me something?_ This was almost farcical; she had landed outside a play park in the Powell Estates. There was Mels, sound asleep on a warm park bench, Rose and a dozen other kids in the playground, Mickey hovering protectively over the younger children. River sighed and felt tears prick behind her eyes as she watched the little drama unfold; Jackie came to collect Rose, Mickey ran to her and pointed at Mels on the bench, Jackie’s entire bearing softened as she saw what was to her simply an exhausted child. Jackie touched Mels’ shoulder and Mels jumped, waking suddenly and looking like a trapped animal. _I think she’s trouble_ , came Mickey’s voice, adolescent and scared and trying hard to hide it, and River smiled. They had been so good to her, Jackie and Rose and eventually Mickey, even though she’d known them for less than a day. Maybe she’d just needed a reminder, and she wouldn’t put it past Sexy to have set her VM unit to _give_ her that reminder. _Where we need to be, or where we are needed..._. dear Sexy Thing. She waited until the Tylers and her own younger self disappeared into the block of flats, then reset the VM unit and disappeared in a cloud of dust and lightning.

River reappeared outside a very crowded chip shop, and checked her chronometer. October 2004? That wasn’t right; she should be much closer to the spring of 2005 than that; Rose Tyler wouldn’t even be employed at the shop yet. Then she saw her - Rose - sitting in the shop and having a low and very intense conversation with a young man River didn’t recognize. Rose’s face was red, and she was clearly very angry, and River watched as the young man grabbed her wrist and Rose wrenched it away, then used the freed hand to slap him. _Hard_.

River wanted to cheer as the young man scooped up his papers and stalked off, pausing in the open door to turn and shout an unkind (and untrue, from all River had heard of her) epithet at Rose. Rose herself sat at her table, not looking up at him or at anyone, fists clenched and clearly fighting tears. Whether they were tears of rage or grief River wasn’t sure, but she suspected a mixture. And she made a decision. It was too early for the Doctor to be here, Rose hadn’t any special sensory abilities, and she was going to talk to the poor girl. She slipped the bio-dampeners off and put them in the pocket of her shorts.

River entered the chip shop. She scanned the place, and then made her way purposefully toward Rose’s table, and unceremoniously sat down across from the blonde. Rose looked up, mouth open and looking ready to spit and snarl at the _cheek_ of a stranger sitting down at her table, but River smiled at her, and said in a low tone, “I saw the whole thing, and I don’t know what he said to you, but good on you, girl, for standing up for yourself.” Then she sat back and waited for Rose’s reaction.

Which wasn’t long in coming, because Rose was _angry_. River hadn’t actually seen soft brown eyes _blaze_ before, and then Rose began to speak in an equally low, but furious tone. “He wanted me to pose for him,” she said, “in only my _knickers_.” She glared at River. “Who does he think I am?” Rose continued. “Who does he think _he_ is? And I _trusted_ him, the sodding bastard, because he’s a friend of M... why am I telling you this?” She changed direction rapidly. “I don’t even know you, and I’m telling you such a... a...”

“Such a potentially embarrassing secret?” River put in kindly. “Sometimes it’s easier to tell a complete stranger. Let’s remedy that.” She put out her hand. “Melody Williams. And you are...?”

Rose took the hand. “Rose Tyler.” River sighed in relief, and a little sadness, that Rose clearly did not connect the name _Melody_ with the little girl she’d met a long time ago. “And that... that _person_ was a friend of my boyfriend Mickey.” She looked down and poked at her chips, then shoved them across the table. “Want some?”

River pushed the plate of chips back to the middle. “Let’s share.” They ate quietly for awhile, and River was reminded of the tea Rose and Jackie had fed her, so long ago. She finally broke the little island of silence around their table. “So... this ‘sodding bastard’...” Rose flashed her a quick grin. “He didn’t hurt you?”

Rose shook her head. “No. Just assumed too much. I thought he wanted me to model, you know, posh clothes or something. I was flattered. But I think he just wanted um...”

“Wank fodder?” River said it casually, and Rose choked out a laugh, then shook her head again.

“Yeah, ‘spose so.”

“So what will you do now, Rose? Girl who can make a sodding bastard like that get lost can do anything, you know.”

Rose shrugged. “I’m eighteen. No A-levels, I left school to... well, for a boy. I’d like a job in a shop, but I dunno...”

“Ah, well, perhaps I can help you there,” said River, and pulled her psychic paper from her pocket. “I’m off to look at a job at Henrik’s, like to come along?” She held out the paper so Rose could see it.

“Yeah, thanks,” said Rose, and smiled at River as she shoved her chair back and stood up. “Right then, let’s go, yeah?”

“You go ahead, Rose. I’ve a lunch date first.” River watched Rose’s face fall, but then the younger woman put on a brilliant smile.

“OK. But if I get the job at Henrik’s before you even show up, don’t be mad, yeah?”

“I’d be thrilled for you,” River said sincerely, and watched Rose leave the chip shop.

River supposed another woman would have felt jealous of Rose, of what she and the Doctor would have. She couldn’t afford that luxury, the timelines wouldn’t allow for it. And she didn’t begrudge Rose or the Doctor their romance. Rose Tyler was sweet and kind and innocent in so many ways; she was exactly what the Ninth Doctor would need after the horrors of the Time War. It was even possible that Rose was the only reason the Ninth Doctor had been willing to _become_ the Tenth, rather than just refusing to regenerate altogether out of guilt and shame and self-loathing.

And so rather than jealousy, River felt a kind of gratitude toward the younger girl. If Rose hadn’t been who she was, the Eleventh Doctor - _River’s_ Doctor - might never have come to be. So she watched the blonde girl walk down the block to Henrik’s, and sent silent thanks. _She’ll be okay_ , River thought, _it’s all set up now. Everything is as it should be. And I didn't have to change my own history with the Doctor._

 _Not one line_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to SnubNoseSilhouette, Kehwie, and Amie33 for beta, Nonny for the prompt, and the TARDIS Wikia for backstory bits.
> 
> And to TygerTyger 'cause she loves Mels stories


End file.
